Hit the Ground! Or Not
by Aria Rayn
Summary: Hmm...something surprises SG1, and the base gets an eyeful or not, with Colonel O'Neill around!
1. Hit The Ground! Or Not

"_Get down!_" Colonel O'Neill roared, and all of SG-1 hit the ground, their noses and mouths getting grass in them.

As they got up, they spat and spitted the grass out. They turned to the Stargate expectantly.

Suddenly, without any incoming travelers, the 'Gate shut down.

"Well that was weird," said Colonel O'Neill, who was closest to it.

"Indeed," said Teal'c, who was by his side.

"I wonder who it was," said Daniel, who was directly behind them.

Sam, who was behind all three of them, was concerned with an even more urgent problem. A muffled "eep!" escaped her lips.

The rest of the team turned to find her still on the ground, clutching the front of her shirt. The sleeves were hanging forward, the back of them distinctly cut off. There was a bulge in her middle, as though some item were stuffed in it. Her jacket, which she had taken off and tied around her waist previously, was lying in shreds. From the way the grass around her was disturbed, it appeared as though she had turned around to face them once she had sat up.

Samantha Jean Carter looked very disturbed indeed.

"Carter…" Colonel O'Neill said slowly, removing his sunglasses.

"Has what happened to you what I believe happened?" Teal'c asked for him.

Colonel O'Neill shot a dirty look at Teal'c. "T, the cliché is, 'are you thinking what I'm thinking'."

"But that is not what I meant to say."

Colonel O'Neill sighed, and looked back to Carter. "You okay?" he asked gruffly.

She nodded vigorously. "Yes sir, the wave only caught my…err, the fabric. It got some of my neck, too," she winced.

"Lemme see," he ordered.

Sam's pink-tinted cheeks flushed more vividly. "Sir!" she squeaked, almost letting go of the front side of her shirt. It began to fall, but she snatched at it venomously and blushed.

As she looked up at her bewildered teammates, she felt her blush grow. Especially when she realized that Colonel O'Neill was smirking THE smirk. The same smirk he'd had during her first year, when they'd visited the planet of the Shavadi. When she'd had to wear that hideous blue dress.

It had been embarrassing enough, watching him take off his hat (for he was in the presence of "a lady") and smirking like a devilish cat when she was in a blue dress (something she wouldn't have worn if Colonel O'Neill had PAID her, let alone ordered her) – but did she have to endure it when she was _half naked?_

Despite her protests, Colonel O'Neill came 'round to check out her neck. She hissed in breath when he touched the bloody skin.

"Well," Colonel O'Neill said, his breath murder on her wound, "that'll teach you how to keep you're a-head down."

The back of her clothes had been completely removed. Luckily, the wave hadn't taken off any layers of skin off, save for her neck (_probably because her neck had been exposed,_ she noted). But unfortunately, she wasn't sure that her pride would survive such a blow.

She looked down to see one of Colonel O'Neill's arms snake around her waist. His fingers toyed with the lump under her shirt, which now rested near the top of her pants. "What's this?" he asked, his breath now tickling her ear.

Sam gulped. "My bra, sir," she said. She was certain her face was as red as a fire truck by now.

While Daniel could only stand there like a gaping statue, Teal'c stepped forward and tilted his head at her. "Are you ill, Major Carter?" he inquired.

"No, why?" she asked. _Do I really look that weak and helpless?_

"Your face is a vivid shade of crimson, similar to these flowers," he replied, hand pointing at a brush of rose-like alien flowers.

"Alright," Colonel O'Neill said. "We'd better get back to the SGC, guys. Up you go, Carter," and he tugged at her to stand up with him. As she rose, she gasped, for her pants and underwear were sliding downwards. Half a belt was completely useless, especially when you only had half a pair of pants. Feverishly, she tried to grab at them, but couldn't if she wished her breasts to remain unexposed.

"I got 'em," Colonel O'Neill said, hiking her pants back up. He stood very close to her, his clothed chest pressed against her unclothed back.

"Sir?" she said, surprised.

"I didn't think you'd want the rest of the world to see this much of you," he said. Truth be told, he didn't want anyone else seeing that much of his Major either. "But at least you fell on your front and not your back."

_Yeah, if I'd fallen on my back, I might not _have_ said breasts to remain unexposed,_ she thought. "Thank you sir," she whispered.

She could hear the genuine, non-smirk smile in his voice when he whispered, so that only she could hear, "Anything for you, Major."

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"You've got a second degree burn, there, Sam," Dr. Fraiser scolded. "What happened?"

The blush Sam had managed to downgrade to a rosy pink flush came back with a vengeance, making her face look like someone had thrown red paint at her.

Sam retold her story, stammering when she came to the part about Colonel O'Neill hugging her from behind to keep anyone from seeing. She'd still gotten plenty of stares and wolfish grins, but no one had said anything when Colonel O'Neill glared at them.

"…And don't you dare start laughing!" Sam threatened when Dr. Fraiser's shoulders started shaking.

Dr. Fraiser put her hand over her mouth and said, as she closed her eyes to stop the tears of laughter, "Why didn't you just change with clothes from your pack?" Her voice shook, too, wavering from the silent laughs embedded deep in her chest.

"Because the wave took it along with the backs of my clothes," Sam said glumly.

Dr. Fraiser gave her a sympathetic smile. "Here," she said, handing Sam a couple of towels "I'll go get you some fresh clothes, and in the meantime you can take a shower as _long as_," she said seriously, "you don't get your neck wet."

Sam sighed gratefully. "Yes, thank you!" she said, taking the towels and heading to the infirmary shower.

Dr. Fraiser shook her head at Sam's bare, retreating back. "That'll teach her to keep her head down," she murmured, still laughing silently as she headed for the locker rooms to get Sam her clothes.

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"I swear to god," Sam said through gritted teeth as the blast doors to her lab shut behind her, "if one more person whistles at me, I'll kill them!"

A moment later, her lab doors opened again, and a certain Colonel O'Neill strutted in, his patented O'Neill smirk firmly in place. "Hey Carter," he said, a twinkle in his eye.

"Sir, I want to apologize again –"

"Carter! Enough of the apologizing, already!" he interrupted.

"Then, sir, I'd like to _thank_ you again –"

"Carter! Enough thanking, too! Geez, you'd think I had saved your butt with the way you've been carrying on."

Sam wheeled around, glaring at her. "Sir, if all you're here to do is chastise me, please, get out of my lab!" she snapped, waving at the door.

Surprised by her tone, Colonel O'Neill replied, "Hey, who put a burr in your pants?" When she stood, fuming at him silently, not replying, he rubbed his forehead and said, "Look, Carter, it wasn't that bad."

"That's easy for you to say! …Sir," she said quietly. "Nobody's spreading rumors about you."

"They are. Why, I heard a young lieutenant whispering a rumor that you and I have been sleeping together for years. All false, of course, but do you think I like it either?"

"But no one _cares_ about your part in the rumors," she said, eyes flashing. "I'm female so all the negative comments are hoisted at me! I've had people rumoring about me before, but nothing like this!"

"If it's any consolation, your six is," he stopped to whistle, "_way_ hotter than they're imagining," Colonel O'Neill said before he realized what he was saying, who he was saying it about, and to whom he was saying it to.

"How dare you!" she shouted. "That's it! Where's my zat!" She stomped past him, ripping her arm free when he grasped it to hold her back.

"Carter, I'm sorry. That was –"

"Inappropriate? Thoughtless? Something only a class-A son of a bitch like _you_ would say!" she hissed angrily. "Leave me alone, _sir_, before I get your ass in _deep_ crap for harassment!"

With that, she stormed out of her lab, leaving a stunned Colonel O'Neill in her wake. When he got over his initial shock, he sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. _Well, _he thought bitterly to himself, _she's right. You are a class-A son of a bitch, O'Neill, and you've screwed up BIG time._

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Sam had gone to Hammond and requested a week's time off, which he had eagerly granted. It was a popular sport at the SGC, to try to get Sam to take time off, and a jackpot like this only came around once in a blue moon. Still, even with this, General Hammond knew he'd never catch up to Colonel O'Neill's record.

Fuming over her CO's lack of respect, Sam drove home irritably, forcing herself to stay at the speed limit, not run over any cats, ducks, or dogs, and not run through any red lights. Somehow she managed to get home without killing anyone.

The first thing she did when she got into her house was kick off her boots, throwing her purse and cell phone somewhere, and poured herself some diet coke. Taking a few sips, she let the cool liquid bubble over her tongue and down her throat, reveling in the taste. But for comfort food, she needed chocolate.

So she ripped open a bag of Hershey's mini chocolate bars – the dark kind. For cases like this, she needed REAL chocolate – low-sugary chocolate was for light cases, milk chocolate was for heavier cases, and a combination of both was for cases that were simply pushing it.

But the special dark kind was for stuff that was **_beyond_** pushing it.

Sam took her chocolate and her diet coke into the living room, where she selected the new "Phantom of the Opera" movie that'd just come out in DVD…umm…two months ago? She winced; it appeared she'd been too busy to see it in the theaters like she'd _wanted_ to, then was too busy when she'd bought the darn thing.

"Well, no more," she announced, and popped it in. The main menu was a collage of roses and romantic scenes. Truly beautiful, she noted, admiring it. They must have put a lot into the film. She couldn't wait; she'd been to the actual opera once, when she was about ten. Her mother had taken her. But she couldn't remember the details, so the movie should hold some delightfully unfamiliar details and scenes.

The opening was in black n' white, at some sort of auction. The man in the wheelchair had just bought the musical monkey, and the auctioneer introduced a broken chandelier! Suddenly, the screen burst alive with music and color as they played the actual story.

Sam watched the movie with surprise and happiness, the combination of dark chocolate and a seemingly magical movie having a calming effect on her. The singing was amazing and unbelievable – the actors had to have a serious set of lungs for that!

She'd gotten as far as the prima donna's rehearsal when her doorbell rang, slapping her instantly back into reality. Scowling, she growled, "Whoever's at the door better have been in a flippin' accident or so help me…!"

She yanked the door open to reveal Colonel O'Neill, still in his green uniform. "Hey, Carter," he said cautiously, eyeing her pissed expression, the bag of Hershey's bars, and hearing the opera music in the background.

"Oh. It's you."

She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the doorway.

His lips twisted into a wry smile. "Is that _Phantom of the Opera_?" he asked nonchalantly. "Never figured you for an opera fanatic."

Sam heaved a heated sigh and transferred her weight to both legs again, straightening, and backed up to slam the door. Before the door could lock in place, however, a certain officer's foot jammed itself in the way. _Tough luck, Colonel,_ she thought viciously, slamming it against his foot mercilessly.

Colonel O'Neill was unharmed, and, unconcerned for his foot, he shoved his way in.

"Look, Carter…Sam…" he tried, "please. Just let me say what I came here to say. Then I'm gone."

Fuming, yet knowing it was the only way she'd get rid of him, she thrust the bag of chocolate onto the couch and leaned against the headrest of it, arms crossed again, and nodded.

"Sam, what I said was indecent and stupid, especially since I hurt someone I care about by saying it." He stepped forward, and was standing only a foot or so away from her. He reached up to caress a cheek. Sam was stunned frozen, not really wanting to hit him for it, but knowing she should. It felt so good, his warm hand on her flesh.

"Sir, please…" she whispered as her anger was replaced by incredible sadness. God, the one man she wanted…

"I need you to know why I said it," he whispered, and he leaned in and captured her lips with his own.

His kiss was intoxicating, driving all thoughts revolving around regulations out the window. His tongue circled her lips, asking entrance, and she granted it, legs turning to jelly as his tongue roamed her mouth. Her arms snaked up and around his neck, and his around her waist, drawing each other closer.

A small fire erupted in her belly and flames of desire shot through her. Sam moaned into his mouth, and he ended the kiss, pulling back to look at her.

Sam was breathing heavily. "Holy Hannah!" she breathed.

He grinned sheepishly. "About those harassment charges…?"

Sam's suspicion was immediately aroused. She frowned at him, and suddenly he realized why.

"Oh, geez! I didn't mean…god, I could kick myself right now."

"Tell me, Colonel," she said, "was that kiss just to get your ass out of the fire?"

"God, no! Sam, I kissed you because I…I love you."

Sam choked, her eyes wide. "Y-you…love me?"

He nodded, and wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled into him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have accused…"

"Shh," he said. "I kind of made it sound like that, didn't I?" He squeezed her more tightly. "But you don't need to ever worry about that. I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered against his chest.

Unknown to her, a smile blossomed across his face that was equal to no other smile. Also unknown to her, he was making plans at that very moment to retire, to wine and dine her, and to sweep her off her feet, both literally and figuratively, on the dance-floor. And, eventually, ask her hand. _Also_ also unknown to her, when he asked her for her hand, she was going to say – well, that's a story for another day.

_And,_ she thought as she was pressed against him in one of his wonderful hugs, thinking about the last few hours, _this all happened because I got half my clothes ripped off by a Stargate wave... Ha, and he said it would teach me to duck down low enough! Not!_

**End.**


	2. Why Can't You People HIT THE GROUND?

Well, you all dragged it out of me :) Enjoy…

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Jack was thoroughly pissed. After that wonderful week of having Carter in his arms (after calling General Hammond to get the time off, of course) work was now driving him crazy!

It'd only been an hour since he got on base, and already Daniel and Carter had kicked him out of their offices! Sam even locked him out of her lab! Granted, apologetically, but still! And Hammond had _point blank refused_ to see him at all!

"Talk to me after your mission, son," he'd ordered.

Jack, of course, had protested, "But _sir!_ That's three hours away!" _And I wanted to retire, appoint Carter as SG-1's CO, and sweep her into a breathtaking kiss in that time…_

And, of course, Hammond's gruff reply had been, "Deal with it," as he slammed his office door shut. Jack had stood in the hallway, stunned.

He muttered, "Who put a burr down _his_ pants?" and went to the commissary.

After a good ten minutes of bugging the servers, he was told to sit and eat or, he quote, "Get the hell out of my commissary!"

So he grabbed two cups of jello – one red, one blue – and made his way to Carter's lab.

He banged on the blast door until he rattled it. She _had_ to hear _that!_ "Ooooh, Carter!" he yelled sweetly. "I bring offerings of peace! – so lemme in, already!"

He heard a distinct sigh and the doors were opened, revealing a very wary Major. She squinted at him. "What _kind_ of peace off– jello!" she cried, snatching at the cup of delicious blueness.

"Ah-ah!" said Jack, swinging it up high where she couldn't reach. "Say it," he ordered with a smile.

Carter sighed, and did a turtle dove duck. "Please," she said shyly with a smile, sweet smile.

Jack groaned and handed her the jello. "You and that turtle dove duck," he muttered, stepping into her lab. He took his honored seat – the tall spin-stool she always kept by her desk for him. Giving it a few spins for good measure, he stopped in front of her; she was sitting on _her_ stool, which didn't spin around, but was nonetheless good for just hanging around with her CO and – hopefully soon – lover, and of course eating jello.

She was digging into her jello quite enthusiastically, which brought the question to mind… "When was the last time you ate?"

Carter had the good grace to look sheepish. "Umm…" she said, "what if I say I can't remember?"

He growled, setting down his jello and vaulting at her. She squeaked in surprise, and he hooked her neck with his arm, jamming his fist – not softly, but not too hard, either – onto her skull through her hair.

"Then _I'd_ say, 'Get the hell out of this lab, and don't make me hurt you!'. So Carter, get the hell out of this lab and don't make me hurt you!" he snapped; there was no ire or anger in his voice, and he was grinning smugly when he let her go. She snapped back into her former, straight position, and gaped at him.

Then she looked down at her shirt and pants, which were covered with blue jello. She quickly located the cup, which was under her stool, and discovered it empty. Not even a tiny smudge of jello left in it. The stuff on her greasy, grimy pants wasn't worth salvaging, and she didn't find the stuff on her shirt to be worth it, either.

"Sir, you spilled my jello!" she said, pouting.

"So eat it off your clothes," he said shrugging.

"That is such a _guy_ thing to say – sir," she added belatedly. "Besides, I can't eat the stuff on my pants! And there's barely anything on my shirt…"

"I'd be more than glad to lick it off _for_ you, Major," Jack said, smirking as he eyed the little bits of jello that clung to the fabric on her breasts.

Sam reddened and snapped, "Don't even think about it, mister!"

_Uh-oh,_ Jack thought. _She's got that scowl. One, two, three, four, five…eleven, twelve, thirteen… Damn, it's a lasting one, too, not one of her five-second scowls where she forgives me soon after. I wonder if I should've stopped at, 'So eat it off your clothes'…_

"Err, sorry, Carter…that was rude and obnoxious and…" Oooh, _definitely_ should've stopped at, "So eat it off your clothes."

Her mouth twitched and she eased up on the scowl. "It's all right," she sighed, genuinely over it. "It wasn't a big deal. Besides…" she cupped a breast in one hand, picking the stray bits of jello off it, and moving closer, her hips swaying seductively. "…it's those little things…" she wiped the jello on his shirt, all the while keeping eye contact, his brown orbs helplessly drawn by her blue ones. She cupped her other breast and started to pick jello off of _it_, and his eyes dropped to her hands and chest. "…that I so love about you." She wiped it on his shirt slowly, smirking when she noticed the bulge in his trousers.

Still smirking, she moved around him and started down the hall, leaving him stunned in her wake. Suddenly, he shook out of his statue-like trance and looked around her lab. "Carter, where'd you go!"

"Down to the commissary as ordered, sir!" she yelled from down the hall, thoroughly enjoying her triumph.

Jumping slightly, Jack dashed down the hall to meet her at the elevator.

"Err…good!" he said, trying to regain some dignity, which was nil impossible with Carter smirking beside him.

"I'd like to thank you sir," she said as the elevator near reached its destination.

"Y-you would?" he said incredulously.

"Yes," she replied calmly, her voice light, though having an air of mystery in it. "You taught me something valuable, that I'll be proud to announce to women everywhere."

"Wassat?" he asked, slurring his surprise.

The doors opened and she said, "That we don't need shiny objects to hypnotize the great Jack O'Neill!" silkily as she went, yet again leaving him stunned in her wake.

He stood their frozen for so long, the doors began to close on him, but he jammed them apart and forced himself to _walk_…_calmly_ after her.

Oiy, that was one dangerous woman!

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The wormhole flushed open, and for the second time, all of SG-1 had to duck down. This time, though, Sam leapt out of the direct line of it altogether, watching her teammates – well, except for Teal'c – squirm under the blue wave. They were probably remembering her incident last week.

"SG-1, this is General Hammond."

"We read you, General," said Sam.

"SG-1, are you aware you're two hours overdue?"

"How can that be?" Daniel asked exchanging a "freaked-out" look with Sam.

"There must be a time distortion," Sam said into the radio, also speaking to Daniel. "Time must flow significantly slower, here. We've only been here about thirty minutes, sir, according to us."

"Hey, look, my watch stopped!" Daniel exclaimed. Sam checked hers.

"So's mine," she echoed.

"Mine is dysfunctional as well," intoned Teal'c.

"Very well, SG-1. Return to earth immediately. I don't want to fool with time like this anymore. Hammond out."

"He's probably thinking of the black hole incident," Sam said. Daniel and Teal'c nodded. "Okay, sir?" she called.

"Right here," said a very irritated Jack O'Neill. Sam looked sideways, and Daniel and Teal'c turned around.

Sam's eyes were greeted by the bare torso of Colonel Jonathan "Jack" O'Neill. She grinned when she realized that his shirt was lying in shreds at his feet, and he was stiffly holding his pants in place.

"Déjà vu," quietly said a very stunned Daniel.

Sam couldn't help but grin widely. The urge to whistle her appreciation for his half-naked male form almost overwhelmed her.

"Carter, can the shit-eating smirk," Jack snapped, his face red. "It doesn't become you."

"Yes sir," she said, promptly ignoring the "order". "Sir," she inquired softly, "is your neck alright?"

"It's _fine_," he snapped, but his wince told the truth of the tale.

"Let me look, sir," she said seriously.

"No!" he yelped, leaping a good few feet back.

She stopped and sighed. "Sir," she said, her "shit-eating smirk" gone, "it happened to me, remember? The least I –"

"I don't _care_ that it happened to you, Carter! Damn it, you come one step closer and I'll have your ass up on charges for insubordination!"

He stopped her in her tracks, and her lasting scowl returned. "Of all the…" she growled, then snapped, "Fine, sir! Walk around and let the entire base see your bare ass!" She swirled around and stopped to the DHD and viciously hit each symbol for earth's address. A hurricane of mumbled irritations flew from her mouth: "See if I care…won't get people talking about him, though. Nooo, it'll still be, 'I'll bet Carter loved _that_!' and 'She so knows she enjoys it!' and 'I'll bet she paid him to do it.' Stupid, self-centered son of a –"

The Stargate whooshed open, and before she went through, she turned and snapped, "Daniel!" The archeologist had been reluctantly moving to go behind Jack to cover him, seeing as Jack couldn't get Teal'c to, but Sam's venomous glare sent him quickly backtracking to Teal'c's side.

"Hey!" Jack roared. "Carter, get back here and –!"

But she had already stepped through, as had Daniel, though hesitantly. Just as Teal'c reached the event horizon, he stopped and turned.

"Teal'c!" Jack cried hoarsely. "T, my man! I knew you wouldn– "

"I pause only to inform you, O'Neill," Teal'c said, his cool voice not masking his anger, "that should you have Major Carter unjustly punished or removed from SG-1, you will have lost much of my respect, and I would be unwilling to continue to serve under your command."

Jack was sincerely shocked. "Teal'c…"

Sensing the question in his voice, Teal'c replied, "And if that were the case, I would dedicate myself to assisting Major Carter. She is an intelligent and strong warrior who would undoubtedly solve many of our problems if she dedicated herself wholly to her studies. However, despite this, she has loyally served you through countless battles. She does not deserve your ire, especially over a problem so petty."

With that, Teal'c went through, and a moment later, the Stargate disengaged.

Jack stared after him. "Did he just tell me to get my head outta my ass!" he asked the deadly silence.

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"Major Carter," Hammond said, frowning at the bottom of the ramp, "where is Colonel O'Neill?"

Teal'c answered for her: "He has approached trouble and refused to accompany us back through the Stargate."

"Teal'c, the cliché is, 'He went looking for trouble and was too pig-headed to let anyone help him,'" Sam corrected, instantly looking sheepish when she looked at the General's bewildered expression.

"I must argue, Major Carter, that it was only to you that he refused help "

"Thanks, Teal'c," she mumbled.

"Is he alright?" General Hammond asked worriedly.

"Oh he's _fine_, sir," Sam said with a snort. "He has a bit of a draft, though, must be getting cold for him with that cool breeze and all."

Daniel had to hide a smile.

Squinting confusedly at her, he looked to Daniel and Teal'c for an explanation.

"General, you know the incident Sam had a week back?" The General nodded slowly. "Well, it seems the tables have been turned."

Hammond's laughter could be heard from the surface.

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With another majestic whoosh, the Stargate came alive again. Jack stood up off the rock, which to be honest was _no_ replacement for the stool Carter always saved for him in her lab, and walked forward expectantly.

But no one came through. Instead, an extremely large duffle bag landed on the stony steps surrounding the 'Gate.

Hammond's voice came over the radio.

"Son, if you're planning on regaining some dignity, I suggest you put on some clothes and get your ass back here. Major Carter and the rest of your team are rather tired of waiting for you to get back so we can begin debriefing. Think carefully about what you find in that duffle bag. Hammond out."

The Stargate died again, and Jack all but ran for the fresh clothes. He squawked unmanly when he pulled out the first thing.

"A CLOWN SUIT!"

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"Think he's found the pair of BDUs at the bottom of the bag, yet?"

"Naw, I've got my money on Ernest's old diving suit."

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Jack tossed aside the clown suit, horrified. He might as well go back naked than wear that. But the next item he found was a familiar, tattered diving suit. He recognized it as being what Ernest had worn when they got to that… "meaning of life stuff" planet.

He held it against him, disgusted. He might as well go naked than wear that, too! seeing as it didn't exactly _cover_ much.

He tossed it to the pile of clown stuff, too.

"JAFFA ARMOR!"

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"I bet one dollar," Teal'c announced, "that O'Neill wears the traditional Jaffa armor, for I do not believe he will think to …zip…open the small pocket in which you placed the BDU."

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No, no, no, no! There _had_ to be something else! He tore at the duffle bag, and his fingers came across a zipper. _What's this?_

He yanked the zipper open and cried out in relief. BDUs!

He pulled them out and quickly threw them on. A tiny, yellow piece of paper gently fell to the ground. Curious, he picked it up. A sticky pad note?

It read:

"We wanted to make you suffer, but Sam insisted we put some BDUs in, even if we did hide them. If you've got this note, you obviously found them, though you didn't deserve to. By the way, don't tell Sam. – Daniel & Teal'c."

Carter? Even after he threatened court marshal, she stuck up for him? He was surprised. Before, he'd thought she'd way overreacted, but as he thought about it, maybe he did, too. _I mean, I DID cover her six for her. I could've had Danny give her his spare of BDUs, but I went around, checked her neck professionally, then I gawped at her naked flesh. And I only did so without her zatting me because I'm her commanding officer. She WAS only trying to help, though I think there may have been a revengeful streak in there somewhere…_

He sighed and dialed the 'Gate. He had some major sucking up to do.

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Sam paced, checking her watch. "Where is he!" she cried again, this time her tone voicing fear. "It's been ages!"

"Sam, relax," Daniel tried to comfort. "It's only been half an hour."

"Half and hour! It's almost been two hours! What if something happened to him! I left him there alone, with no firearms!"

"Sam – it's only been half an hour by _his_ time," he reminded her gently, engulfing her in a comforting embrace. "Remember? You said so yourself, time passes more slowly on that planet."

Sam allowed him to hug her, to stop her from pacing frantically. But she remained stiff in his arms, refusing to ease her worries. What the hell had she been thinking, leaving him there!

"**UNSCHEDULED OFF-WORLD ACTIVATION, UNSCHEDULED OFF-WORLD ACTIVATION…"**

Sam ripped herself away from Daniel and sprinted down the stairs to the control room.

"Who is it?" she demanded.

"It's SG-1," Walter said.

"Open the iris," General Hammond said as he came down the stairs, Teal'c and Daniel right behind him.

Sam nodded to the General then rushed out the door to the gateroom, watching, praying that he came through unharmed, no matter what he was wearing.

When Jack came through, Sam sighed her relief and jogged up halfway on the ramp to meet him.

He stared at her in disbelief. She wished she could kiss him and kill him all at once, but neither seemed appropriate if she valued her career. So instead she settled for a hoarse, "I see you found the BDUs, sir."

Jack smiled slowly and said, "C'mere," and drew her into a one-armed hug. Then they walked down the ramp together, his arm still around her waist.

Sam smiled and dipped her head to hide it. She knew they were going to be okay.

SGCSGCSGCSGCSGCSGCSGCSGCSGCSGCSGCSGCSGCSGCSGCSGCSGCSGCSGCSGC

I have decided that a third chapter is in order, so soon I will update this again:)


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